Looking Through a Mirror
by ever
Summary: The story of a girl, told in her own words, and how she learned to see the boy through the glass...


Looking Through A Mirror  
  
  
They say that there is a time in everybody's life when they are face with a decision that can change their future, for better or for worse. In the second that they make that decision they've grown up, changed from a child to an adult and taken their place in the world. My choice, my growing up, came in the turbulent days of 1899. The year of Pulitzer's and Hearst's newspaper wars, the year of the depression, and most importantly the year of the newsie strike. I guess I should start at the beginning so I don't loose you someplace.  
My mother is Esther Wein. In the year 1881 she married my father, John Ben-David. From what I know of him he was a plain man, not ugly but not overly handsome. He wasn't astoundingly brilliant or witty. He lived his life in a normal way and was a normal person, never aspiring to be anything more or anything less. However he was extremely kind and sweet and therefore my mother loved him as she once told me "more than anything." I never really knew my father but it always gave me a good feeling in that secret little chamber of my heart that my mother had loved him so much.  
Immediately after they were married, in January, they moved into a small apartment, obviously in New York. In 1883 they had me. My father elected to call me Sarah, after an aunt from Russia, who died of a liver complaint. My mother, however wish to call me Rebbeca, after her younger sister who died at age two. Therefore my full name is Sarah Rebecca. I have always gone by plain Sarah. My mother tells me that when I was born their life was full of joy and their apartment full of light. It didn't last long though. In 1884 barely a full year after I was born my father passed away from a heart attack. A single woman with a daughter had no place alone in New York so my mother and I moved in with our grandparents. Their small three room apartment held them, my mother and I, and two other siblings.   
In 1886 My mother met a man named Mayer Jacobs and she decided to marry him. We moved into their apartment. Mayer Jacobs was my substitute father and his son, also from a previous marriage, my brother. From the very first moment Mayer Jacobs insisted I call him papa and consider his apartment my home. So I did and being very young when my father died I had no scruples about it either. His son, David, and I became the best of friends. In fact, looking back, he was probably the first friend my own age that I ever had.  
Anyway in 1889 Mama and Papa had a little boy, whom they named Les. We lived this way a happy family of five for awhile. When David and I were seven we began to go to school to get an education.   
I did very well in my studies and was well liked by my teachers. David also did very well. I can remember how Papa used to set up spelling bees for us and I was always overjoyed when I won and upset when David did. But the good natured competition only enhanced our friendship.   
One day the teacher called me into the classroom. It was 1899 and I was sixteen.  
"Sarah," she said," you can't stay in school forever. Eventually you're going to have to go to college."   
"College?" I said. My heart did back flips at the thought of it.  
"Yes," the teacher said, funny I don't even remember her name," I've had an offer to send one girl to a seminary that will prepare her for two years for college. I want to send you, Sarah. It's a scholarship it won't cost your parents anything." My heart was wheeling.   
"Wait till Davy hears about this," I told myself.  
"There's one catch," the teacher said," it's in Massachusetts."  
"Massachusetts?" My heart fell. I couldn't leave my parents and my family.  
"Sarah this is a golden opportunity. Think about it before you turn it down," the teacher cautioned, handing me a letter with the offer enclosed. "If you don't go at best you'll be stuck here at a community college and that's if you're lucky you may not be able to go at all. I don't have to tell you that you deserve better than that. There aren't that many chances for women to get an education in this world. Take this one."  
"I will," I promised, but in my mind I had already said no. I decided not to tell anyone. I didn't want them feeling bad for me. Still in the back of my mind, I thought that maybe if I earned some money somehow I could go. I wanted to be something more than Sarah Jacobs, more than anything.  
Then came the day which changed my life. I went home from school as usual with David and we entered the usually empty apartment only to find papa sitting in a chair with an arm in a sling. It was an accident at the factory and it meant the loss of one income. We couldn't support ourselves from Mama's meager earnings as a washwoman and therefore I did the most unselfish thing I'd ever done. I volunteered to work. Mama found me a job at a sewing shop. It wasn't particularly hard work or skilled work, but it was work. There I found my first lessons in pride. I had to endure insults from women twice as old as me. They weren't even particular things and most were not directed to me. They were about my parents and how they let my brothers and I go to school instead of working like other hard up families did. I learned that I was lucky to have gotten an education until sixteen.  
With all that education I was able to do all the bookkeeping and for the first time I saw how much we were in dire need. I saw how we were basically hovering on the brink of poverty. I don't think I smiled once that week.  
David realized something was wrong. Because of my job and being so busy we hardly had anytime to find out what was happening in each other's lives, but he knew me well. So he and Les also quit school and became newsies. This was what led to my life changing, growing up decision. It all started when David brought home his selling partner, Jack Kelley.  
I enjoyed Jack's company. He had eyes that I felt like could stare into my soul and a laugh and smile that none could rival. Les adored him. Papa approved of him. Mama had a few scruples which Papa took care of. David.... well I was never quite sure about David, until the end. I think to some extent he coveted the fact that Jack had no words but a voice and he, David, had no voice but words. That dinner was the first time the whole week I had smiled. I think Mama sensed that and decided to leave me alone.  
The following morning we were eating breakfast.  
"Sarah, what's this?" David said, picking up a dog eared letter that had fallen to the floor. "It has your name on it."  
"The letter!" I had to get it back. "Nothing," I said quickly," give it to me." I reached for the envelope.  
"If it's nothing why is it so important I give it back?" David said, smiling like a little kid playing keep away with some adult's apartment keys.  
"David, please," I said, changing my tone from commanding to pleading. "Give it to me, please, Davy." I used his childhood nickname.  
"Let's see," he said opening it up, and keeping me back with one hand. "Dear Ms. Jacobs," he read aloud. Then he stopped. "Here you go," he said, handing me the letter and giving me a strange look.  
"Thank you," I said refolding it and putting it back in it's place, avoiding David's eyes.  
"What was that, Sarah?" Papa asked me.  
"Nothing Papa."  
"Well it seemed pretty important." He waited for an answer.  
"Uh-- you know Sarah," David said," It's a letter from a guy at school," David whispered into his father's ear.  
Papa smiled knowingly. "Well," he said to me," if he addressed you as Ms. Jacobs, I think you ought to find someone less stiff." I laughed to break the tension and cast a grateful glance at David, but it wasn't over yet.  
About a week later Jack was at our house.  
"You know Jack wants to go to Santa Fe," David said, at the dinner table, directing a glance towards me, which I promptly ignored.  
"Uh, yeah," Jack said, a little bewildered at what was going on.  
"That's what you call ambition, Sarah, some people are lucky enough to have it," David said.  
"And some people should consider the fact that maybe other people don't want them talking about their business," I said.  
"Well if some people would talk about the things that needed to be talked about then other people wouldn't have to do it for them," David countered.  
"Well those people should consider that maybe the other people know best what needs to be talked about and what doesn't--"  
"Sarah, David," Papa said," not now okay." He glanced with his eyes towards Jack. I felt color rising to my cheeks. Jack was seemed to be taking the whole family life in with an interested air.  
"Why do you want to go to Santa Fe?" Mama asked Jack, trying to make conversation. I admired her efforts, but wasn't about to aid them. I glared resentfully at David for the rest of the meal.  
A couple days later Jack came to see me. We talked about a lot of things, namely Santa Fe. I didn't want him to go, of course. It wasn't my fault that I was rapidly falling in love with him. His manner and air were mesmerizing. "Sarah I'm not used to having whether I stay or whether I go matter to anybody," he said. "And I'm not saying it should matter to you, but does it? Matter?" I smiled for my answer. I liked Jack more than any other boy before. In someway I thought we were different and in some exactly the same. He dreamt of Santa Fe and while there were no bonds tying him to New York he couldn't leave. I dreamt of a girl's seminary some place in Massachusetts and while I had many family ties keeping me in New York, were I to announce that I wanted to go I would leave with full family backing. Sometimes I felt as if Jack was my mirror, through which I prioritized. He's going to Santa Fe to be with his family, I would tell myself and you're going to stay in New York also to be with your family.  
Another day my conversation with Jack was about that time at dinner.  
"So what were you talking about anyway?" he asked me.  
I decided the time had come to be honest. "I was offered a scholarship to a school in Massachusetts and David is mad at me for not accepting."  
"Your parents let you turn it down?"  
"I haven't told them."  
"You should go."  
"I can't."  
"Why not?"  
"My family needs me." He gave me a strange look almost with a tinge of jealousy.  
"That must be nice," he said.  
"What?" I asked.  
"To have people depending on you." I was silent contemplating an answer.  
"Well, the newsies all rely on you," I said. It was true. "They'd fall apart if you weren't there."  
"It's not the same way," he told me, smiling.  
"I don't understand what the difference is," I said, trying to read his mind and heart with my own eyes.  
"I can't explain it," he said.  
"Jack more peoples' lives would fall apart than you think if....." The words remained unspoken in the air. He and I both knew what I meant.  
"You?" he said, leaning close to me. I thought he was going to kiss me.  
"I told you already. It would matter to me," I said, looking up into his face and realizing that I never wanted him to leave me.  
"Yeah well, you don't know me as well as you think," he said, backing off suddenly. His change in matter startled me.  
"I don't know about that. Sometimes people looking on can see better than the person themselves," I said.  
"You're looking on?" he said, with a slight sarcastic tinge." How?" he asked.  
"Through a mirror," I answered. I knew from his understanding glance afterwards that he caught my meaning exactly.  
Jack got his proof that the newsies really needed him later. Joseph Pulitzer, owner of the New York World, raised his distribution price from fifty cents per hundred papes to sixty cents. It was a small difference, but to newsies it made all the difference. So they went on strike with Jack as the leader. A certain pride rose up inside of me. The boy who led the strike, who held all those peoples' trust, loved me.  
When David came home and told me about the strike there was a certain apologetic note in his voice.  
"Sarah," he said," we went on strike today." He explained the whole thing to me. I had been doing book keeping and figuring out the finances for that month.   
"David," I said," you sound like you're sorry. I mean this is a good thing. Jack's right. You shouldn't let them think that you're nothing."  
"But, Sarah, what are we going to do now? I know we don't have enough money and now we lost the third income?"  
"Don't worry about it," I said smiling, and making up in my mind that I would have to start taking work home from the shop. "Just go lead your strike."  
"Well actually," he said, smiling guiltily like a child with a secret," I did talk to Spot Conlon."  
"Who's he?"..................  
The newsies continued their picketing and even got themselves on the front page. Then they decided to organize a rally, with all the newsies from all over New York. Denton, the friendly writer, helped them organize it. It was to be at Irving Hall, which was owned by a friend of Jack's, Medda Larkson. Then, of course the cops came in and broke up the rally. David and Jack immediately ushered us out. I felt some pride deep down in my heart, for my brother David. After all he was also the strike leader, sort of.  
The following day was one of those days when everything should go right, but doesn't. It was a sunny day, the kind which has the potential to be happy. David had got home very late and not without protest Mama had made me go to bed before. Then, I had to leave for work. So I didn't see David until later that night. Of course I pelted him with questions about Jack and the newsies. He told me how Denton had paid the fines and about Jack and his story, his life.  
"His mother is dead and his father's a convict," David said, putting his arm on my shoulder. "Listen, Sarah, does he really mean something to you? Does he? You don't want to get involved with a guy like him unless you're serious, unless you love him." I was silent. "Choose, Sarah," he said.   
So my mirror was gone. But a mirror is made of two parts, silver and glass. I had been looking at Jack with silver, thinking that he was rich in family like me. But without that family, that silver, it wasn't a mirror. It was just a glass and all I saw was Jack. That was when I realized, when I grew up. I couldn't got to the seminary because I didn't want too. Yes, maybe a slight part of me did, but the rest of me wanted to stay with my family. I loved New York. It was my birthplace and my home and I'd never leave it. Then I directed my attention to the boy through the glass and realized that I'd never leave him either. "David, I know it may be wrong, but I think.... I think I really love him," I said.  
David nodded. He didn't seem disappointed or happy. He... understood.  
"David," I said, with a note of urgency in my voice. "Get him out of there, please. Don't let him stay in the refuge."  
"Sure sis," David said, kissing me on the forehead. They say that before something good happens there is always absolute chaos. During the absolute chaos you loose yourself completely and then suddenly you start to find pieces of yourself again right before the good thing happens. That was what it was like then. I didn't realize how lost I'd been until I started to find myself and suddenly everything seemed okay.  
So David went to go help Jack and escape. Later I learned from an angry David that he and Jack had gotten away and then Jack had refused to come with him and pushed him away. I felt bad because I had asked David to rescue him. I didn't understand with everything I knew about Jack this didn't seem like him. The next day of course I found out that Jack had turned scabber. A kind of pain seemed to rip through me. You never realize what you have until you loose it. The newsies and I both learned our lesson that day. I tried to put Jack out of my mind, but of course I couldn't. I thought about that day on the rooftop when I basically told Jack that I knew him better than he thought. I was reconsidering that now. Then a new thought struck me. Maybe I shouldn't reconsider. Maybe I knew Jack better than he knew himself and I knew that he would never be able to stay a scabber and desert his friends. So I clung to this hope, to this glimmer of light in the darkness that seemed to envelope me. Because I realized that no matter what Jack did I could never stop loving him and I could never separate myself from him and therefore whatever pain he went through I would go through.  
One day I was doing my sewing when I came across one of Les's knockwursts.  
"Les, what is this?" I asked him, grateful for the comic distraction.  
"I was saving it," he said, taking it from me.  
My little distraction over I turned to the paper the hot dog had been wrapped in. "David," I said to my brother. "It's Denton's article." I thought it was good. "The dark truth why our city really fears the newsies, by Bryan Denton. Last night I saw naked force exercised-." David cut me off by walking out the window and slamming it after him.  
I have to say I was a little upset. I had expected him to be more open minded to the whole thing. Was this my brother? Why was he so angry? I had never known him to be like this. David was always cool headed never letting his emotions get the better of his thought process.  
Later that same day I was taking some work to the shop. Les followed me pretending to fight off evil and conquer dragons with his wooden sword. The day was sunny and the light creeped into my soul and being. I couldn't help smiling at the neighbors. I felt like I was on top of the world and nothing could bring me down. My mind has always had the peculiar tendency to skip right over facts and go straight to the fantasy. So on that sunny day Jack wasn't a scabber. Jack? He had never even thought of leaving the newsies. No, he was out protesting this very minute against Pulitzer.   
"Excuse me, sweetface." A voice interrupted my thoughts. I smiled at the man and returned to my Jack Kelly. Suddenly I was confronted by another boy. He asked me where David was. Quickly I summed up that they had to be the Delancey brothers that David and Jack had warned me about. I tried to push at them to get out, but it was lost. Les started to bother the shorter boy. I ran into the alley. I don't know why, looking back it was pretty dumb as Jack and David pointed out to me later. I threw a punch at the bigger man. It didn't have any effect. I guess there is something to be said for growing up on the streets. Suddenly David came out of nowhere. I hadn't known he was nearby. He started to fight with the Delanceys. I began yelling. I didn't know what to do. This was New York. What were the chances of someone hearing us and helping? I thought I could at least try to appeal to their humanity. Then, Jack came. When I saw him running towards us I couldn't believe it was him. He was dressed in a gray suit, the nicest clothes I'd ever seen him in. When it was all over David asked," what you couldn't stay away?" his voice dripping with sarcasm. Again I stared at him. It was a side of my brother I had never known.  
"Well I guess I can't be something I ain't," Jack said.  
"What a scab?" David asked, the sarcasm level receding slowly.  
"No, smart."  
"What are you going to do now?" I asked, after Jack and David had stared each other down for a couple minutes.  
"I don't know, but I guess I better do it quickly before I have to start running from Snyder again."  
"Why don't you have another newsie rally?" I asked.  
"No I got a better idea. We're going to make a paper advertising the rally and get the whole city to come," Jack said, " I even know where to find a press."  
"So what else do we need?"  
"Denton. No one else knows how to print a paper."  
"He probably won't agree." David had remained resentfully silent during this conversation. Now Jack and I both turned our heads towards him.  
"No!" he said. "I know exactly what your thinking Sarah Jacobs and Jack Kelley. The answer is no!"  
"Please Davy, you want to help the newsies right," I pleaded. Jack stayed out of it. He was on pins and needle with David. David rolled his eyes and made it look like he hadn't been waiting the entire time for us to ask him.   
Then he said," alright. I'll do it, but you owe me." I kissed him on the cheek. "Here's what we're going to do......."  
So we went to Denton's apartment. Our plan of attack had already been laid out. David and Jack talked about their plans just enough to get Denton interested and then used reverse psychology. It worked. Denton was on board.  
Jack led us to Pulitzer's basement, where the press was. The dust was so thick down there I could barely breathe. "You've been living here," I asked, unable to hide my horror.  
"Shhh! Weasel catches us we're all in the slammer," Jack said, helping me down the stairs.  
"Alright a platinum press," Denton said.  
"Is it going to work?" my ever doubtful brother asked.  
"It better. We've got a deadline." Denton started instructing us. We got to work quickly. The lighting in the basement was dim. My eyes burned. My throat itched from the dust. My hands with their scratches from the string burned when the ink entered my cuts. It was a long night and sometime during it I found time to talk to Jack.  
"When I saw you coming I hardly recognized you in your gray suit," I said over his shoulder, smiling just for him. He laughed a little,"First chance I get I'm changing back."  
"Jack you put paper in there. Sarah work the machine from over there," Denton instructed.  
"Too nice for you, huh?" I asked.  
Jack looked at his papers. He was concentrating really hard on them. "Sarah there are a lot of things I have which are too nice for me," he said. I gave him a puzzled look. David and Denton moved to the other side of the room. I assumed they couldn't hear us over the din of the press.  
"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked.  
"I think you know."  
"I know I don't."  
"Oh, really."  
"Yes, really." I waited to see if he would answer. "Jack what is going on with you. First you leave the newsies when you knew all along you would end up back here." He gave me a strange look. I returned it with forceful one. "Then you're talking about things being too good for you............"  
"That's what I mean, I'm just Jack Kelley. When the strike is over I'll go back to being just plain old Jack Kelly; no more fame, a regular Joe."  
"And I'm just Sarah Jacobs," I said," leading a strike doesn't make you into a different person. It's just a chance to really see the person that's inside of you. So if you can be happy with Sarah Jacobs I can certainly be happy with Jack Kelley."  
"What about Francis Sullivan?"  
I took a deep breath. "I'll take either one."  
"Sorry I ruined your mirror."  
"I have glass now."  
And so we went on. We worked. We struggled and we won. Pulitzer couldn't crack us and he finally realized it. The newsies won their strike and after their triumph they immediately went back to the lodging house and celebrated with a victory dinner?? Not exactly. In fact it almost came close to being nothing like that. Yeah, this is the final part of my story and if you think that true love can conquer everything read on because it was about to have a head on collision with Santa Fe.  
Amidst the cheers and shouts of the crowd of ralliers that had gathered for a final stand against Pulitzer Jack rode off in Teddy Roosevelt's carriage.   
"And so the cowboy rode off into the sunset and everyone lived happily ever after," David said. "Almost everyone." He said giving me a gentle and encouraging hug. Tears pricked my eyes and through blurring vision I moved aside to let the newsies get their papers. There was this big empty space in my chest where my heart had been. The gaping wound hurt a lot and I couldn't stop the tears. I remember thinking how victory was bittersweet.  
My brother was almost on top of the world. Looking back I wonder whether he knew somewhere in him what was going to happen next. The sound of the crowds cheering rose up in my ears and suddenly I knew. Everything was okay. Around the corner came the carriage. Pulled by those sleek brown horses, it was the most beautiful sight I had ever seen. Jack climbed down amongst the exclamations of "I knew you wouldn't leave us."  
Jack looked up at David. "How's the headline today?" he asked. I held my breath as if what David said would determine the future of the universe.  
"Headlines don't sell papes."  
I let out my breath.  
"Newsies sell papes." David literally bounced down the steps. Jack offered him a hand, a clean hand. And David returned it with a spit shake.  
I felt this tightness in my chest disappear as I made my way through the crowd. When I got into the circle of newsies I could feel it. It was so strong. All of their emotions were there. I could see how each of them had their own lives and trials and tribulations, but they had all come together and then I felt their love. I looked into Jack's eyes and suddenly I was kissing him. They were cheering, but the sounds came muffled as Jack leaned his forehead against mine and said "Santa Fe's got nothing on you guys." And then I heard the cheer that broke lose as if it had come from my own mouth, but my lips hadn't moved. It was the most joyous sound ever. And maybe I realized at that moment that we had all grown up. We had faced our demons, gone into to battle and conquered. Looking around at the newsies I decided that yes we had definitely conquered, all of us, together. 


End file.
